Time Heals- Ch. 4

Time Heals All Wounds

By Aeryn Alexander

Rating: PG-13, Romance, Drama
Disclaimer: Fan fiction is for fun, not for profit.

Chapter Four

Evacuation and conversation

A crew rotation came and went before Tucker and T’Pol found themselves aboard the shuttlepod again. Trip looked as though he had not slept very well, although he had managed to catch up on a few hours of shut eye while his Vulcan companion worked tirelessly on both his plan to save Tish’s life and their plan to share accommodations. She was satisfied with neither, but the universe was imperfect and the situation was illogical. Phlox had remained holed up in sickbay, or so she had overheard Crewman Cutler say in the mess hall, and Captain Archer had yet to issue further orders regarding the Zedeev or its crew. It seemed to be up to them to remedy the situation.

Trip smiled softly at her as they exited the pod to be greeted a second time by Az, who looked haggard and even more worried than before.

“How’s he doing?” the commander inquired as his engineers shuffled by them.

“He fades in and out of it. Tish is strong, but ...” Az replied, trailing off and simply shrugging.

“I will examine him again, if it is permitted.” said T’Pol mechanically.

“Yes, thank you. I would be most grateful.” nodded Az, leading her back down the familiar corridor while Commander Tucker, a preset tricorder in hand, began attending to other business.

The lights in sickbay were low when Captain Archer entered, taking a break from his other duties to visit his chief medical officer, who had seemed to have made himself scarce. Archer looked around for a moment before glimpsing Phlox at a computer, hard at work and oblivious to the presence of his commanding officer.

“Doc?” questioned Archer as the Denobulan hung his head.

Phlox looked up and managed a small, sad smile. He looked worn. Archer reminded himself about Denobulan sleeping habits before he had the chance to inquire inanely about whether the doctor was getting enough sleep. He knew very well that that wasn’t the problem.

“Captain, what can I do for you?” asked Phlox, the cheer sapped from his voice.

“I wanted to know how you’re holding up.” said Archer, leaning against a biobed.

“As well as can be expected, I assure you.”

“Have you thought about trying to contact Az?”

“Yes, many times, captain, but I know he would refuse to hear me. If he chooses to trust me, to let me back into their lives if only to do this one thing, if only to treat Tish, then he will do it in his own time and not before, no matter who cajoles him or how.” answered Phlox.

“And you’re content with that?”

“I must be.”

“But you’re not going to leave it at that.” Archer stated uncertainly.

“I’ve been working on medication, better medication, for Tish. Maybe I can come up with something for Sub-commander T’Pol to give him that will ... do some good.” said Phlox. For a moment his eyes seemed watery and Archer wondered if Denobulans cried like humans do.

“Then I will leave you to your work, doc, and good luck.”

Sub-commander T’Pol could not help but to notice the anxious way in which Az watched her as she made a few additional scans of his brother before giving him another hypospray. She glanced at the time display on the tricorder and wondered when Trip would set his plan, grudgingly, their plan, into motion. She was not certain that they were taking the proper course of action, but it was a calculated risk. They owned much to the Denobulan physician who had not only served as their doctor, but often as their counselor as well. Without his kindly advice, meddlesome though it had periodically seemed, T’Pol knew that Commander Tucker and she would not be so close, would not share so much. Their lives would be substantially poorer without his influence. And for that they both felt that they owed him something.

“His condition remains the same.” said the sub-commander evenly.

Az was about to pose another question when they heard the unmistakably sound of running footsteps in the corridor outside. Commander Tucker appeared in the doorway.

“We got to get out of here! I’ve found signs of an imminent hull breach in one of the forward compartments!” he informed them breathlessly, holding out a tricorder for Az’s inspection.

The Denobulan grabbed the instrument and looked at the scans before asking, “Why wasn’t this detected earlier?”

“It must be something to do with the alloy you use. It’s completely alien to us. All I know is that we might be minutes from bein’ blown into space. I’ve called for a shuttlepod. We have to evacuate.” Trip explained urgently. “I’ll send my people right back over when they’ve had a chance to suit up.” he added.

“Commander, you cannot be suggesting that we move him ...” T’Pol began to say. Her skill at play acting had certainly improved in the past year.

“Can’t leave him here. What if the hull blows?” said Trip.

“Yes, you are right, commander.” agreed Az.

“Course I’m right. Let’s get him to the docking area. That pod will be here any minute,” Trip said, tucking away his tricorder and helping T’Pol hoist Tish from the bed. They tried not to exchange glances, lest they give away the relief that both the human and the Vulcan felt. They had expected a struggle or at least indecision on Az’s part.

Captain Archer and a medical team, trained auxiliary personnel that did not include the chief medical officer, met them in the shuttle bay. Trip and T’Pol helped Tish, who was semi-conscious, onto a stretcher before letting the medical staff take over. Archer watched the team, followed by Az, leave the bay before turning to his two officers.

“A hull breach, Trip? Why didn’t we catch this sooner?” the captain asked his chief engineer.

“Promise you won’t get mad?” asked Trip with a lightly surly, self-satisfied smirk.

“No.” Archer answered.

“There’s nothing wrong with that ship’s hull ... Well, that’s not necessarily true. It was dinged up pretty bad, but it isn’t in danger of rupturing anytime soon.” Tucker informed him. When they had decided to go through with the plan, both Trip and the sub-commander had decided to be honest with their commanding officer.

“So you lied to him?” questioned Archer.

“It was ... logical to do so. If there is any chance of Az allowing our doctor to assist Tish, then this is that chance. Even if they still refuse to trust Doctor Phlox, they have the full advantage of our medical facilities now.” T’Pol told him impassively.

“I have to admit it. It was a clever idea. But I would rather have been consulted.” said Archer with a smile.

“We figured the fewer people in the know, the better. We didn’t want Az getting suspicious.” said Trip. “Next time, though, we’ll be sure to give you a heads up.”

Phlox was in sickbay when the call came in. He wasn’t caught off-guard when the stretcher carrying Tish arrived. He glanced at the able crewmen who moved Tish onto a biobed and at his other son, who was too concerned about Tish to notice Phlox standing half hidden by a screen in the corner. It was not until one of the med team looked briefly in Phlox’s direction that Az even realized his father was there. Az’s face became stony as he averted his gaze.

The doctor continued to watch them, observing both his children and the crewman treating Tish. Few of them knew very much about the intricacies of Denobulan physiology, but they were both competent and capable, he decided, although treating Tish was something that he would much rather have done himself. But he knew by the look in Az’s eyes that he wouldn’t let him anywhere near Tish. Az had been stubborn and willful since childhood, what little of it Phlox had taken part in, and as an adult he had not changed. He had inherited the stubbornness from his mother. Tish, who still looked so young, on the other hand, may not have been so stubborn or hard-headed as his brother, but he seldom disagreed with the elder sibling. He was loyal. Phlox could not fault him for that, but if he had been otherwise, perhaps the dissension in the family would have been less and he would have only lost one son instead of two.

When Captain Archer walked into sickbay with Commander Tucker and T’Pol just behind him, Phlox’s eyes met those of Az. In the quick glance he could see burning anger smoldering there, just as it had done on the bridge and so many years before when they had last spoken.

“I’m sorry your ship had to be evacuated.” the captain told Az as he stepped away from his brother’s biobed and the small throng of medical personnel.

“No, I am sorry, captain, for not detecting the problem earlier. Unfortunately, our sensors were knocked out during the conflict.” said Az apologetically, putting his anger aside as he talked to Archer.

“It could happen to anyone.” Trip interjected.

“We are in the process of finding quarters for you here until your ship is repaired, if that is satisfactory.”

“I would not wish to be any bother, captain, but I would be grateful, especially if I may stay near Tish.” he said.

“I think that can be arranged.” said Archer with a smile. He looked over Az’s shoulder to where the medical team was working. “Perhaps if you allowed ...” he began to say.

“Please, captain, I am in your debt, of course, but if you wish to suggest that he treat my brother, I must inform you that Tish has declined his assistance.”

“Very well.” said Archer grudgingly. “I should get back to the bridge. You two are welcome to stay here.” he told Trip and T’Pol before walking out of sickbay.

“Maybe while they’re patching up your brother, we could treat you to a meal.” offered Commander Tucker.

“A meal?” questioned Az hesitantly.

“From what I understand, you’ve been eating resequenced food for months, heck, maybe years, right? The mess is just down the hall. You wouldn’t even be that far away from your brother.” said Trip with a welcoming grin.

Az let his eyes drift toward Phlox, who was watching his medical team with rapt attention, but making no move to interfere or intervene.

“Thanks. I can’t seem to turn down the offer.”

The trio, which included a silent and seemingly brooding T’Pol, sat down at a table near a window in the practically deserted mess hall. Trip was awed by the amount of food Az had heaped on his plate, none of which, he imagined, was familiar to the Denobulan. The guy had to be hungry, not to mention very adventurous, which was not unlike Doctor Phlox.

“I don’t want to pester you about your relationship with your father, because I know it’s a sore subject, but I’m afraid my curiosity is getting the better of me.” said Trip as they began their meal.

“Have you known him long?” asked Az, taking the comment in stride.

“More than a year.” answered Trip.

“Not very long then. I imagine you haven’t noticed how much he likes to have his own way ... about everything or his penchant for making the affairs of others his own concern.” said Az bitterly, stabbing at a vegetable on his plate.

As Trip and T’Pol exchanged glances, the commander beamed and she simply raised an eyebrow, hiding what might have been the very beginning of a smile with her napkin.

“What is it?” questioned Az, watching them.

“Well that last part ... about Phlox not minding his own business. I guess we can understand that, but he gives such good advice ...” chuckled Trip.

“Ah ... and does he continue to dabble in match-making as well?” inquired Az acidly.

“Not so much match-making ...” Trip began to argue.

“Yes.” T’Pol stated, interrupting him. “And he is proficient at that task.” she added.

Az simply shook his head and prodded at his vegetables, muttering in Denobulan.

“I think I get it.” Trip said to T’Pol.

“What do you get?” she asked.

“Phlox tried to arrange them marriages without knowin’ them.”

Az looked up sharply, seeming to glower, as he retorted, “Yeah, that’s it, almost exactly. He was in and out of the house when we were kids, and the very day Tish came of age, he set out trying to find brides for us.” He coughed shortly before continuing. “‘Rella is very attractive, Tish. Or Lyra. She’s so smart.’ ‘Az, have you met Nalla? Her family owns a business.’ ‘Erri is such a sweet girl, and she has a sister.’” said Az, mimicking his father. “Can you imagine?” he asked them.

Commander Tucker almost expected T’Pol to answer in an empathetic manner as she was betrothed by her family at an early age, but she simply looked at Az placidly and said nothing.

“But it wasn’t what you wanted. I get that.” said Trip. “It doesn’t mean you have to stay mad at him for the rest of your life. I think he knows that he made a mistake.”

“Does he? I haven’t heard him try to apologize, not before Tish and I bought that ship and left and not after.” said Az, his eyes flashing with sudden, fierce anger.

“Have you given him the opportunity?” questioned T’Pol.

“That’s my baby!” thought Trip with a slight smirk.

Az lowered his eyes and seemed to consider the question.

“Perhaps not.” he admitted. “But I don’t think he’s sorry.”

“You don’t think he’s sorry?” repeated Commander Tucker. “Did you see him in sickbay or do you have some kind of blind spot for people you don’t like?” he asked incredulously.

“I ... Look, commander, it is more complicated than you think.”

“Very well. Explain to us in what way it is complicated and we will listen.” said T’Pol.

Az simply sighed and shook his head. Even T’Pol could tell that his resistance was wearing down.

“I will try ... to talk to him ... ask him to treat Tish so that my brother can do the same ... if he wishes. He will not refuse ... He was a doctor before he was ever our father ... and he was always a doctor long after he stopped being a father to us.” said Az as though it were a struggle to do so.

There was an uncomfortable look of both relief and defeat in his eyes. He was glad that his brother would have the best care possible and therefore a fighting chance, but Az certainly begrudged the fact that he would have to speak to his father, that he would need to depend on him for anything, much less something so important.

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Continued in Chapter 5

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